I put that in French, because I am a snob. An UnAmerican, Culture Loving SNOB.
I don't watch reality tv. (Except for The Biggest Loser which I got kind of hooked into and it made me cry).
I only listen to NPR on the radio.
And I have had it UP TO HERE already with the f#$in' FIREWORKS.
It's not even the Fourth! It's been going on for a week here, because it's legal the week before the 4th, and my neighbors like things to blow up GOOD.
So it's like a war zone here. I swore last year that we'd be gone this week, but because we have a vacation coming up soon after, we are here, with our helmets on and buckets of water at the ready.
I feel like such a dork - my neighbors all love this stuff. Every other time of the year, I feel so grateful to have the neighbors I have, but this time of year, I just feel so out of place. They spend literally hundreds of dollars to light it on fire and listen to it go boom. If it were just for one night, I might love it too. But DEAR SWEET JESUS IN HEAVEN - EVERY DAY AND NIGHT FOR A WEEK? I think they do it to try to send us back to California. I have news for you - WE'RE NOT GOING. We live here now, and watch out, because we will find others like us, and we will change these stupid laws that let people blow shit up for days and nights on end.
I am such a pussy. But luckily, the rest of my family is too. Joe-Henry said tonight as he was trying so hard to go to sleep, "Fireworks just steal PEACE!"
The thing is, I LOVE the real stuff that happens on the 4th. I love the big, beautiful community fireworks and the giant ones that don't make any sound and then do that huge BOOM that you feel in your stomach. Those make me "oooooooh" and "aaaaaaahhhhh" with the rest of the patriotic goofballs that think that once a year dressing in red white and blue will make up for the fact that we're not paying attention to what's going on in our country.
I even like sparklers, and I had lots of fireworks as a kid. I loved them, and I hope that Joe-Henry will too. I don't want him to be a grumpy old man before, say, age eight. But if he's too tired to stay up on the 4th because he hasn't been able to get to sleep before 11:00 p.m. for a week because every goddamn whistling pete ever made is going off right outside his window every goddamn night, I am going to be one angry mama.
Like I'm not already. And yes, I STILL have pms.
Can you tell?
A Pair of Watermelon Salads
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